


'Til I Found Salvation

by nickelkeep



Series: Nickel's Story Time Series [28]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Parent John Winchester, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Heavy Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multiple Soulmarks, Multiple Soulmates, Past Dean Winchester/Other(s), Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:15:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22269250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickelkeep/pseuds/nickelkeep
Summary: Finding your soulmate isn't hard when almost everyone has multiple soulmates; four, five even upwards of seven. It's rare to have only three soul marks and people who only have two? Sucks to be them. And the poor sons of bitches who only have one? They're the unluckiest of all.Dean Winchester knows a thing or two about being unlucky.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/Other(s)
Series: Nickel's Story Time Series [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1431565
Comments: 21
Kudos: 290
Collections: ProfoundBond Prompt Collection





	'Til I Found Salvation

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not late, I swear. This Storytime (Number 28!) took two days to live write. I might have gotten carried away, but [EmiliaOagi's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmiliaOagi) Soulmate AU prompt deserved it:
> 
> _no idea if this exists for Destiel already but: Soulmate AU where almost everyone has multiple soulmates, 5-7 or something on average. It's rare to have as few as 4 soul marks and people with 2? Poor bastards. And one markers? Unluckiest of the lot._  
>  _Have one of the two be a 2 marker whose first soulmate rejected them, and the other be a one-marker who has hidden it because everyone pities one markers. Your choice as to which is which_
> 
> I put my own twist on the prompt, making it Pre-Canon and Canon-Divergent. I'm sorry, Dean. I still love you.
> 
> ...
> 
> Sidenote, a lot of influence for this fic came from Lewis Capaldi. Especially his song [Grace.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m8rM7Tox1HE)
> 
> ...
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://nickelkeep.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nickelwrites).

Dean remembered sitting on his mother's lap and tracing over the pretty pictures on her arm. She would sit and tell him all about the meaning behind each one, a beach ball for the tall man named Brian, a donut for the baker named James, the one for his Daddy, which was a pair of dog tags. There was a fourth one that Mommy let Dean make up tales for because it never activated. When she died, Dean realized why it never activated. She never got the chance to meet that person.

His Daddy's mark deactivated that day. That's how Dean knew mommy wasn't coming back. Everyone knew about the soulmarks; they had been explained to him since he was old enough to ask about the daisy that stood out bolder than the rest pictures on his Daddy's arm.

"It's my mark for your Momma," John had explained. "When you hit a certain period in your life, yours will be revealed."

"Does that mean that someone loves you too?" Dean asked the curiosity lit in his bright three-year-old eyes.

"Not always, Son. But you fight for what and who you love." John mussed his son's hair and kissed the top of his head before tucking him into bed. "It's worth it to fight for important things."

At four years old, Dean started his first life lesson. You would fight for the important things past death.

...

It wasn't until eight years later when Dean woke up from a fitful sleep. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and he went through the regular motions his life had become attuned to. He got up, checked on Sammy, made breakfast, packed lunches (or lunch for Sammy if they were running low), and then wake up Sam.

If you asked Dean now, he'd always remember that they were in Colorado when he got his mark. A little town outside of Colorado Springs called Woodmoor. He didn't actually notice the mark right away - he was used to bruises on his body - but John picked up on it almost immediately.

"Were you trying to hide this from me, Dean?" John had wrenched Dean's arm and twisted it to get a better view of the mark. "Think I couldn't handle it?"

"Dad! Please!" Dean tugged his arm back, "I didn't even notice it." He traced his fingers over the mark, a pale outline of a feather on his right wrist. "One?"

"No, that can't be right." John grabbed at Dean's other wrist, turning it over. When he determined there were no marks on his left wrist, he lifted up Dean's shirt. "The hell?" John searched Dean's back and chest. "Any on your legs, boy?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't think so, Sir." He braced himself, ready for the following comment from John.

"I can't do anything right, can I?" John scoffed. "Lose Mary, got a freak for a son. Watch Sammy turn out the same way."

"A freak?" Dean's voice squeaked. His father had called him many things, but calling him a freak while stone-cold sober hit the hardest. "What? Why?"

"What have you been taught over the years, huh? Those who only have one soulmark are considered weak, unworthy, they're pitied for having a loveless life." John crossed to the fridge in their motel and grabbed a beer. 

"But I'm not weak. I've helped you. I make you bullets!" Dean pleaded with his father. "I'm–"

The fridge door slammed shut. "Go finish taking care of your brother, Dean. Get to school. We'll finish this later." John exited the motel room, the bang from the door sure to have woken up Sam.

"Yes, Sir." Dean hung his head and moved back to where the beds were. Sammy had hidden under the blankets. "Hey, Sammy. Breakfast is ready."

"Dean, what happened?" Sam peeked out from under the comforter. "Why was Dad mad?"

"It's nothing, Sammy. Come on." Dean pulled the blanket off of Sam and guided him to the table. While his little brother ate, Dean pulled a bandana out of his bag and tied it around his wrist.

Dean's mark isn't mentioned again. Not for days, or weeks, or even years.

Despite his nights tracing it, memorizing it, hoping for it to activate and give him a reason to leave the hunter's life. Yet, nothing comes from it except his father's repeated words.

...

Three years after Dean's mark appeared, Sam woke up excitedly. His arm was marked up from wrist to elbow, six unique symbols to represent future loves. Sam had rolled over and smacked Dean - accidentally, of course - in his excitement to show off his marks.

Dean couldn't help but be happy for Sam. If anything, the fact that he had six confirmed that he'd fit into society just fine. He wouldn't get pathetic looks if he didn't wear his flannel shirt or forgot to put on his bracelet. If anything, people would double-check their own arm to see if they're lucky enough to have him cause one of their activations.

John returned from his hunt a day later, filled to the brim with pride as Sam showed off his symbols. Sam was able to identify each and every one. He imagined aloud what each person was like, why their symbol was one of these six.

Dean couldn't help but feel neglected at that moment. The way that John beamed at Sam in pride and listened to each of his imaginations. For a moment, Dean could see the father he lost years ago, the one who forever changed when fire tore through Sam's nursery.

Frustrated, Dean slipped out of the motel room and over to an adjacent park. He probably didn't even have to sneak out, as John was so wrapped up in pouring affection to Sammy. And honestly, if you had asked Dean, he was thrilled that Sam was being doted on. It was something they both craved, the love and affection from an oft-missing father. But in this case, Dean couldn't help but feel the knife between his ribs twisting and turning.

As he sat on the swings in the park, he heard someone calling his name. 

"Dean? You left."

"Sorry, Sammy. I uh, couldn't stay." Dean stared at the ground as the swing next to him creaked.

"Dean, Dad doesn't know what he's talking about." Sam reached over from his own swing and put his hand on his older brother's shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with you. You're still Dean, you're still my brother."

"I'm fine, Sam."

Sam shook his head. "You can say that, but I know you. I know why you hide your mark. I know why you're sad. Dean, you're so much more than the mark on your arm. No matter what Dad says."

"Yeah, well. That's easy for you to say." Dean cringed as soon as the words left his mouth. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"Yeah you did, but it's ok." Sam stood up and punched Dean playfully in the shoulder. "Dad's gone out to the bar. Let's go back to the room and find something to watch and order a pizza? Dad left us money."

Dean nodded and stood up. "Okay, Sammy."

"Great! And Dean, no matter what, I still love you, okay?"

Dean closed his eyes briefly and nodded, forcing a smile on his face.

The years began to fly by, and Dean's mark had finally been placed on the back burner by John. Dean himself could never forget it, and every stop he made, every time they hit a new town, Dean found himself scouring the bars. He took on the option to go to the Library or to the town hall. Dean wanted the exposure. He wanted to find the person who would activate his mark.

But every town left Dean more disappointed than the last.

That was until a werewolf in Des Moines. And meeting another young hunter by the name of Lee. 

...

Dean had never known what it was for your heart to flutter or to fall for someone. But at 19, he learned his newest lesson about love: Marks didn't matter. Dean did as first loves often go, he fell hard, and he fell fast. 

He didn't care that John wouldn't approve; neither did Lee, who had started tagging along on their hunts. Dean didn't care that they were reckless, tangling up in each other every chance they got. He especially didn't care that their marks never activated. Dean found someone who got him, who understood him, and cared for him.

Like all good things, though, Lee left. Lee promised it wouldn't be forever. But Dean couldn't forget watching the skin on Lee's arm darken when that girl came up to him in the bar. He had thought Lee was past that, that Lee loved him too. But in the end, the mark would always win out.

With Lee slipping out after the last night they spent together, Dean learned his biggest lesson from the mark. There's a reason why those with two or less are pitied. Because they'll never be good enough for the person who contains the mark of the person they fall in love with.

Dean promised himself after splitting ways with Lee, that he'd never fall in love again.

Instead, he honed his skills to be the one that people never forgot. To be the "best night" of their lives. To be the one that people missed. Dean had learned what it was to love and to lose, and he swore he would never go through that again.

...

Dean almost broke his promise. At 21 and a year after Lee, Dean found himself in a biker bar. Sam and Dad were hunting a banshee a state over, and Dean had completed the salt-and-burn his father had sent him ahead of schedule.

A gorgeous, leggy brunette sat at the end of the bar. Two larger, older men were ignoring her requests to be left alone, and Dean instantly slipped back into hero mode. He made his way down to the stool that was open next to her, sitting down and flirting with her, apologizing for being late. Surprisingly, the men left her alone, and Dean properly introduced himself to Lisa.

They spent the weekend together, and Dean found himself not wanting to leave. She was gorgeous, she was edgy, she was bendy. But she had 3 activated marks and two that hadn't been activated.

Dean couldn't do that again.

...

The next year proved to be one of the hardest in Dean's life. Sam abandoned him for Stanford. John's drinking turned to an all-time high, and Dean was once again his verbal and physical punching bag.

After a hunt gone bad - John had been too drunk to properly lay out the trap for the Rugaru - Dean finally realized that he had been through enough. He took the Impala and drove as far as his car could get him, ending up in Cape Girardeau, Missouri. It was a port town on the Mississippi, and quickly he found work, a place to shack up, a small group of friends.

What he hadn't expected was Cassie Robinson.

She was fire, she was fury, and she was beauty. And like Dean, considered an outcast. She had two marks on her arm, a crane and a mark that Dean joked was a banana, but was, in reality, a boomerang. While neither of their marks activated while together, sparks certainly flew.

Dean felt alive. He worked on the docks and took up small cases that popped up near him. And over the few months he stayed in town, he fell in love with Cassie.

One night after a hunt, he came home to his tiny little apartment to find Cassie sitting on his sofa. She had been worried, as he didn't call, and went to see him. Dean pulled his broken cell phone out of his jacket pocket and showed it to her. Cassie begged for an explanation. If Dean really loved her, he'd tell her the truth.

That night, he tried to come clean to her. About ghosts, about monsters, about the things that go bump in the night. But she laughed in his face. When Dean doubled down, Cassie shook her head and told him that was the lamest way someone tried to get out of being in a relationship with her, and that she expected more from someone like her.

After Cassie slammed his apartment door shut behind herself, Dean packed up his bag and left, heading out to California to check on Sam.

...

The years went by while Sam was at Stanford.

Dean and Lee met back up again, as Lee had promised. They fell back in step, their movements when paired together stronger than ever. Dean had hoped this meant that Lee learned that the marks didn't matter.

But after a case in Arizona, Lee disappeared without so much as a goodbye.

John couldn't stand to be around Dean for more than a few days at a time, despite Dean doing everything John could ever want. He tried to be the good little soldier and tried to get an ounce of praise, but nothing was ever good enough for John-Fucking-Winchester.

So Dean got used to not hearing from his father for a few days at a time. He always called to check and make sure that Dean was on track or had finished a case, and then provided him with a new one if Dean had finished. But after his last hunt, three days turned to seven. One week turned to two. Dean couldn't get a hold of his father.

Afraid that this case was the one that did his father in, Dean set his course for Stanford.

...

Getting Sam back had been too good to be true, Dean realized.

The little shit had shot up like a weed and was four inches taller than him with hair that was six inches longer. And if possible, Sam had gotten even smarter. But damn, if Dean hadn't missed Sam.

Their first night on the road, driving to Jericho, Dean caught sight of Sam's arm. Two of Sam's marks had been activated, one faded and the other starting to fade slightly. A ping of guilt hit Dean, and he realized that Jess was one of those marks: the book that Sam always hoped meant that his soulmate was a writer.

Dean looked at his arm. It was covered by his flannel shirt, and he knew under that was the leather cuff that only left his arm when he showered. Jealousy coursed briefly through his veins, that Sam had found not just one but two of his soulmates, and Dean was destined to probably never meet his. But when he took a look at his brother, Dean shook his head. If anyone deserved to find happiness, it was Sam.

Dean focused back on the road and drove. The sooner they found Dad, the sooner Dean could get Sam back to Jessica.

Of course, things never go as they planned. Dean's mantra was to always plan for things fucking up. But even Dean wouldn't have been able to plan for what happened. Every time Dean looked over at Sam, he was tracing the scar of where Jess' mark had been. 

Dean knew that his mark was still there, still inactive. But seeing the scar of one? Seeing the pain his brother was going through? It was the first time he was ever grateful for only having the single mark.

Within a few weeks, Sam and Dean recovered their rhythm and were able to work together as they once had. 

Sam got to meet Cassie, which had been slightly embarrassing for Dean. But Dean was able to get at Sam when they met a dark-haired beauty named Sarah that Sam quickly fell for.

The next few weeks were a blur. The brothers found a case that led them closer to finding John. They found John. They met the Demon that killed their mother. They lost their father. They went to stay with Bobby.

...

As they went through their father's items, a voicemail on one of John's phones intrigued the brothers. A woman named Ellen left an ominous message: _Hey John, it's Ellen... look, don't be stubborn; you know I can help you. Call me._

Hoping that it was lead on the yellow-eyed bastard, Sam and Dean drove to the address Sam traced from the voicemail. It was a place called Harvelle's Roadhouse.

Ellen and her daughter Jo greeted them with rifles in the small of their backs, and while the commotion was cleared up, it's the third person who's passed out on the pool table in the back that has Dean's attention. There was a pull there, and Dean couldn't figure out what that feeling was.

"That's Ash," Ellen explained, as she tossed an empty can at Ash to wake him. "If anyone can help you guys with John's journal, it's him."

"He's a genius. Kicked out of MIT for being too smart." Jo added as Ash stirred and hopped off of the pool table.

Ash walked over and shook Sam's hand before shaking Dean's. His grip lingered, and after a moment, Ash looked down to his arm. A familiar symbol - the ZoSo symbol from Led Zeppelin IV - darkened on the man's arm. "Well, I'll be damned."

Dean took in a deep breath. He had never seen a mark go dark due to himself before, and judging off of the man in front of him, he hadn't either. A smile spread across Dean's mouth, and he quickly moved to roll up his sleeve and take off his leather cuff. 

The feather that marred his skin remained inactive.

Dean stumbled for words, but it was Ash who responded first. "I'm still glad to have found you."

A red heat flushed through Dean's cheeks, and he excused himself and Ash. At the same time, Sam took a look at a case that Ellen was going to offer up to the hunters who would be coming into the bar later that evening.

In between every case, Dean made a point of stopping back at the Roadhouse. Even if Ash wasn't his soulmate, he decided to make a point of being the best soulmate for Ash. They weren't sure what it meant when one person has the mark of someone who doesn't have one for them, but they never bother to look it up.

It didn't matter. Ash completed Dean and vice versa.

A few weeks later, Dean noticed that Sam had another one of his marks activate. Sam didn't know who it was, as they met a lot of people on the campus when solving the trickster case. Dean joked that perhaps it was the trickster itself, as it was the peppermint candy symbol on Sam's arm that activated.

If looks could kill, Dean probably would have been dead twice over.

A couple weeks later, yet another one of Sam's marks activated. It was the moon, during their hunt for a werewolf. Madison had one activate as well, a pair of socks. Two days later, the moon faded away to a scar.

Dean couldn't find the words to comfort his brother. It was the second time he's watched a mark fade from his brother's arm, and he couldn't fathom the pain his brother was going through.

Until he could.

Sam had been abducted by demons on the way back to the Roadhouse, and instead of stopping there like he usually would, Dean made his way to Sioux Falls to grab Bobby. While Bobby had nothing to offer to help get Sam back, he was as determined as Dean to find him.

While planning, Dean's phone went off. Black Dog started playing, and Dean answered it immediately. "Ash, please tell me you have something for me."

"I do, but I need you to come here. I don't trust the phone lines. I'm pretty sure they're being monitored." Ash sounded nervous, which in turn made Dean extremely nervous.

"I'm on my way. Stay safe, okay? Don't do anything stupid, please." Dean pleaded.

Ash paused and sighed. "I'll do what I can. Just get here soon."

Dean and Bobby rushed out to the Roadhouse to find it burned to the ground. Dean had barely put Baby into park before he jumped out and ran to the charred remains of the building.

He followed the layout of the Roadhouse he knew so well and found himself in the remains of Ash's room. Dean fell to his knees and lifted a severely burned arm. His mark was still dark on Ash's arm, and he felt the tears flowing down his face. Dean slid Ash's watch off the wrist and held it tightly.

Dean made a point of destroying and killing every demon until he got to Sam. But it was too late. Dean watched as Sam fell to his knees from the knife in his back.

With a spare glance at his soulmark, Dean apologized to the open air, to the person he would never meet, and made a deal to bring Sam back to life. His one soulmate could live without him, while Sam would get the chance to meet the rest of his.

And it's not all that bad in Dean's mind. Sure, he's scared. But he's got one year left to live life to the fullest.

Despite the evil that was Ruby and the obnoxiousness that was Bela, he made sure to leave Sam with as many good memories as possible.

Dean found Lisa and saved her son. It wasn't even supposed to be a hunt. He just remembered the area and wanted to hop in on the bendy yoga teacher from when he was 21. She offered him salvation, despite the fact that his mark never activated for her. He didn't tell her the deal, but told her of the things that go bump in the night, the things he never told her all those years prior.

Sam and Dean celebrated Christmas, which was something they hadn't done in years. Sam fought tooth and nail to not partake in the holiday but gave in at Dean's request.

Much to Dean's dismay, and to a lot of his unknowing, Sam was able to confirm that his peppermint candy mark belonged to no other than the trickster they thought they had killed. Sam was confused as to why his soulmate was a monster, but Dean reminded him that not all soulmates have to love each other.

At the end of his one year, Sam threw one last hail Mary to try and save Dean. They were unable to destroy the demon known as Lilith, and she refused to give up Dean's contract for anything.

Everything else was a blur to Dean. Death came slowly and painfully, and hopefully not in vain.

...

Dean woke up in a cold sweat, in a dark box, with no recollection of how he got there. He worked his way through the wood, then the dirt, and dragged himself to the surface, seeing the sun for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. 

He made his way out of the clearing and walked until he found a strangely abandoned gas station. Dean grabbed a bottle of water and chugged it, relishing in the crisp, cool taste. After a moment, he noticed a mirror. Hesitantly, Dean walked over to it. As he took a deep breath, he spared a glance over his body and found that it had been repaired to better than new. Scars were missing, joint pains were gone, an interesting handprint appeared on his shoulder... but his soulmark remained. Still inactive, as always.

Dean took a few essentials, as well as a few non-essentials, and started to head out of the gas station. A TV and a radio switched on. Out of fear that Demons had come to drag him back to hell. Before he could finish salting the windows and the doorway, a piercing sound shattered all the glass in the building. It was over as quickly as it began, and Dean bolted out of the building. 

He ran to the nearest payphone and tried calling Sam to no avail. When he tried to call Bobby, Bobby understandably threatened to kill him. Dean looked around and found a car to hotwire, figuring out where he was and started the trek to Bobby's.

The rest of the time passed quickly for Dean. It was a whirlwind of catching up, finding Sam, and meeting with a psychic named Pamela. Pamela made contact with the creature that rescued Dean from Hell but lost her own eyes in turn.

Unsure of what to do with the information that Pamela lost her eyes for, Dean and Bobby decided to go through with a summoning ritual to call the creature that saved Dean to them.

After setting up every known trap, circle, ward, and protection in an abandoned barn, Dean recited the Latin, asking for the thing that rescued him to come forward. The latched door to the barn burst open, and lights sparked as the bulbs blew out, lightning flashed, and a man in a long tan trench coat walked up to Dean and Bobby.

The pair both shot rock salt rounds at the man, who appeared to be unaffected. Further startling Dean, was the fact that the mystery man walked through every trap and ward on the floor.

"Who are you?" Dean asked, braver than he felt.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition."

Dean muttered thanks before he took the Demon blade and stabbed it into the man's chest. Unaffected, the man turned and placed two fingers on Bobby's head as Bobby tried to get the drop on him. Bobby fell to the ground, unconscious.

"We need to talk, Dean. Alone." The man watched as Dean crossed over to Bobby. "Your friend is alive."

Dean checked Bobby's pulse all the same before standing up. "Who are you?"

"Castiel."

It was too much and not enough for Dean. Castiel had advised him that he would be needed for God's work, and then practically disappeared again after saying he would be in touch.

After Bobby woke up, he and Dean started the trip back to Sioux Falls, letting Sam know to meet them there. During the drive, Dean noticed a throbbing on his wrist, where his soulmark laid. 

He slowly rolled up his shirt sleeve and undid the buttons that held his leather brace in place. Dean swallowed down a gasp as he realized his mark had activated.

"What's the matter, Dean?" Bobby looked over from behind the wheel, stealing a quick glance.

"My soulmark." Dean frowned. "It's activated."

Bobby's eyes stayed on the road, but Dean could still see the surprise on his face. "Do you know when that happened?"

"No." Dean shook his head. "You don't think..."

"I don't know what to think, Dean. People with one soulmark rarely meet their soulmate. It's why..." Bobby paused, letting the connotation of pity hang in the air.

"Maybe it's just cause it was an angel, and they're like a super soul," Dean suggested.

Bobby started rolling up his sleeve. "I doubt it, boy." He turned his arm over, his two remaining soulmarks exposed and inactive. "It could be the poor bastard he's possessing."

Dean slouched back in the seat, his finger tracing over the feather on his wrist. He silently cursed out against God, against fate, even against Castiel. The last thing he needed was to be bonded to a monster.

Over the next few days, there was no contact from Castiel whatsoever. When Dean and Sam and Bobby went against spirits known as the Witnesses and sealed them back away, a small part of Dean had hoped that the so-called angel would reappear to assist them.

It wasn't until that night, however, in Dean's dreams that Castiel returned. He warned Dean of Lilith's goal for the 66 seals, and to release Lucifer back to earth. Out of frustration, Dean protested, wanting to know why Castiel or any other angel came and helped with the Witnesses. When Castiel replied that Angels were dying elsewhere in a different battle and that Dean needed to show more respect, Dean silently wished that his soulmark never activated.

Over the next few months, Dean fought against the entire meaning behind the mark. Yes, he allowed himself to get closer to Cas because Cas was helping him. And yes, Dean switched from Castiel to Cas because it's not as big of a mouthful. And maybe, just maybe, Cas wasn't as bad as Dean thought he was. But the mark can't be right. Dean refused to believe it.

However, that doesn't stop him from trying to get a look at Cas' arm every now and then.

One night, in his dreams, Cas came to him, asking to meet. However, upon his and Sam's arrival, Dean found not Cas, but Jimmy. The poor bastard Cas possessed.

Jimmy explained that he didn't remember much about being possessed. He was able to recall how Cas came to him, how Cas proved he was an angel. He remembered saying 'Yes' to Cas. 

While Sam told Jimmy why he couldn't go home, Dean took the opportunity to look at his wrist. He rolled up his sleeves and undid the buttons - a new ritual that stemmed from Cas crashing into his life - and took a look at his feather. While not deactivated, it was severely faded, as though Cas were far away. Not that Cas was Dean's soulmate. Not possible as far as Dean was concerned.

Dealing with Jimmy's desire to return to his family brought on more issues. Sam stepped out of the motel room for a soda, and Jimmy escaped to rush back to his family. Jimmy's action brought Demons down upon his wife and child. He almost died himself when his wife, Amelia, became possessed and shot him.

When Cas possessed Jimmy's daughter, Claire, Dean swore that he felt his mark darken, the feather filling in as Cas smote the abhorred demons around them. And when Cas repossessed Jimmy, he knew his mark was complete again. 

Dean offered his hand down to Cas to help him stand back up and pushed Cas' sleeve back. On his arm were two activated marks. A rose and a rapidly darkening birdcage. Unsure if his heart was floating or his heart was sinking, Dean let go of Cas' hand. He watched as Cas started to leave, remembering at last minute to ask what Cas needed to tell him.

"Cas, hold up. What were you gonna tell me?"

A sad look crossed Cas' face. "I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean. I serve Heaven. I don't serve man, and I certainly don't serve you."

Dean's heart felt like it would stop. He watched as Cas walked away before turning to go back to his own car.

...

The next time Cas showed up, it's after Dean's been screaming hoarse for him. Dean wanted answers. To know what happened to rip Castiel out of Jimmy. Dean wanted to punch the asshole for abandoning him. And, strangely enough, Dean just wanted to hold Cas and make sure he was okay.

When Cas arrived, Dean looked at his wrist and gently touched the feather that he left exposed, curious if Cas would ask about it. However, it was all business for Cas, and that stung on a level that Dean couldn't comprehend. When Cas left after getting what he needed, Dean collapsed to his knees, the pain unrelatable to anything he had felt before.

A couple of days later, in which Sam ran off to go be with Ruby, Dean found himself Angeled away by Cas. A brief look at his new surroundings and Dean found the place to be a gaudy, obnoxiously bright, and gilded room. But Cas was there. Cas was near. Being close to Cas, even in the least desirable of places, with the terribly unwanted Zachariah, was a balm for the suffering he had felt in Cas' absence. 

Not that it did any good for Dean. Zachariah explained everything. He reminded Dean that he started the apocalypse. He told Dean all about letting 65 seals get broken. He made sure Dean know that his part was to be used.

All while a guilty Cas hung his head over in the corner.

Dean had fought so hard against his soulmark, fought against falling for the angel Castiel, now he found himself craving even the quietest of presence. He stole a glimpse at his wrist - he had stopped wearing his leather cuff after he confirmed that Cas was his soulmate - and slowly ran his finger over the mark. 

"We've been through much together, you and I. And I just wanted to say I'm sorry it ended like this." Dean looked up to find Cas standing next to him, and Zachariah no longer in the room.

"You're sorry?" Dean started to tear into Cas. "You knew this was gonna happen. You knew. This is what you were gonna warn me about before they dragged your feathery ass back up to Heaven." Dean turned and faced Cas and continued his tirade so he could be angry. "There is a wrong side here, and you know you're on it."

Cas looked at Dean, sorrow in his eyes. "What would you have me do, Dean?"

"Get me to Sam. It's not too late to stop this."

"We will be hunted, and we will be killed." Cas shook his head. "I can't–"

Dean choked up. "This is worth dying for, Cas."

The last thing Dean expected was for Cas to fly off. Fight him, tell him to piss off, bring up his destiny, that was what Dean expected.

What he expected even less is the jailbreak that Cas orchestrated by banishing Zachariah to who knows where. The news that Sam killing Lilith breaks the final seal almost made him puke, and it's the quick Angel hop that made him actually do it. 

Chuck's house was as messy as Dean remembered, from his first visit that feels like a lifetime ago at this point. Cas was able to persuade Chuck to give up Sam's location, and before the Archangel Raphael could come to smite both him and Dean, Cas sent Dean to go stop Sam.

Once Dean landed in the church, he fell immediately to his knees. He didn't have to look at his wrist to confirm what he already knew. All he could do was make sure that Cas didn't die in vain.

But it was too late. Dean ran to Sam but was locked out of the room by Lilith, or Ruby, or some other demon piece of crap. By the time he broke through the door, Sam was fighting Ruby. 

The next thing Dean knew, after killing the hellspawn bitch for everything she had done, he was on a plane flying over Baltimore.

As the plane made its final descent, Dean took a moment to look at his wrist. His feather - Cas' feather - was already blanked down to a scar. The pain that the adrenaline had covered was building up behind his chest.

...

Once landed, and in the airport, the brothers grabbed a rental car. Dean immediately turned on the radio, and the confirmations of Armageddon starting rang through the car. Sam looked to Dean, his shoulders slumped. "Maybe we can find Cas, regroup, figure out our next steps?"

"Nope." Dean held his wrist out and showed it to Sam. "Cas is gone, Sammy."

"You said that wasn't for him. You told me..." Dean saw the proverbial light bulb go off over Sam's head. "Why did you lie?"

"Cause lying was easier than accepting it." Dean shut the radio off and started driving. "Hopefully, Chuck can give us a lead."

Chuck confirmed what Dean already knew, and pulled one of Cas' molars out of his hair. 

Then Zachariah and his cronies tried to capture them not once, but twice.

And then Dean felt his mark before he saw him.

In full fury, Cas took out Zachariah's cronies before scaring the main douchebag away.

Dean's heart had never done a complete 180 the way it was in Cas' presence. Dean's heart - and the mark - won the battle, even if Dean wouldn't admit it.

Knowing the apocalypse, and knowing their odds, Dean took every second he could spend with Cas to get to know him. And even when Douchariah threw him to the future, he saw his wrist, and he saw Cas'. Their marks were there, they were bold, and frankly, no one cared that they were together.

Then, when Dean died alongside Sam, the main thought in his mind was if he would get to see Cas again. Cas ended up helping them find Joshua, and in turn, return to Earth. Dean secretly hoped that it was because Cas wanted him back, but would never openly admit it.

When the time came for Sam to take possession of Lucifer and lock him back in the cage, Dean watched as Cas distracted Michael, only to be destroyed by Lucifer. Then a few minutes later, brought back stronger than ever.

Then walk out of his life again.

Cas promised he would watch over Dean. But he needed to make sure Heaven was taken care of. The other angels needed to see the truth, they needed free will of their own. While Dean couldn't blame him, he couldn't find a way to make Cas stay.

Dean drove to the one person who promised him salvation - Lisa.

...

Time with Lisa felt wrong. She saw his mark, noted that it was faded but not gone, but still took Dean in. She tried to love him, tried to take care of him. Let Dean be in hers and Ben's lives.

But there were days when Dean's mark was darker than others, not that Dean could tell. To him, it was a cursed reminder of the angel who left him behind. The angel who chose the host that abandoned him. The angel that could still bring Dean to heel if he returned.

When Cas finally returned, it was cold and distant. Despite that fact, Dean's mark fully bloomed after being dim for the better part of the year, and he can't help the way that his heart tugged him to be closer to Cas.

And even when it became evident that Cas was working with the demon Crowley, Dean refused to believe it, his loyalty to the angel his biggest weakness. So when Cas slipped, and the truth came out, Dean took a lighter to his arm, desperate to burn away the mark that bound him to the damned seraph. Unluckily, Sam stopped Dean and ripped the lighter away, calling him a fucking idiot.

It was too late at that point to fix the problem Cas had unwillingly caused. The angel took on souls from purgatory and gained the godlike powers he needed to destroy not only Raphael, but his followers who wouldn't convert as well.

Dean was helpless. He couldn't reach out to Cas, he couldn't save him, and worst of all, his mark was fading. Not in the distance way that merely indicated that they were apart, but in the way that showed Dean he was going to lose Cas completely.

Which he did, and Dean kicked himself for being correct. He watched as Cas - possessed by Leviathans - walked into a local reservoir and not walk back out. He felt the pain stab him in the wrist, his mark turning into the dreaded scar Dean had only seen once before. 

With Cas' trench coat in hand, Dean vowed to figure out how to take down the Leviathans before carefully bundling up the jacket. Little would Sam or Bobby know, but Dean would take a short trip into town to get it dry cleaned. They also wouldn't know that he kept it in the trunk of the Impala, pulling it out frequently when on the road.

Dean managed to keep it together for the most part, but multiple cases and hunts had him thinking of Cas. 

When Dean killed the Kitsune, Amy? He hadn't realized that she was the fox on Sam's arm.

When Osiris put him on trial for past sins, Dean knew that he would lose over the guilt he felt for letting Cas down, for not being able to save him.

When Becky tricked Sam into marrying her? Dean briefly wondered what would have happened if he had actually ever confessed his feelings to Cas.

And when Bobby... Yeah, Dean really wished Cas was there for any kind of comfort.

And then Dean really started losing Sam to his hallucinations. To the point where to keep Sam safe, Sam was put into a mental hospital. Desperate to find an answer for Sam, Dean turned to all the hunters in Bobby's network, finding a guy named Mackey, who was healed by a guy named Emmanuel.

...

Dean felt it, the change in his soulmark, before he saw him. He sent out a small prayer to the ever-absent God, hoping that when he turned around, it wouldn't be a lie.

At the foot of the staircase stood a very much alive and very much confused Cas. Dean stood slack-jawed and watched as the angel walked past him with no recognition in his eyes. Cas - Emmanuel - freed his wife Daphne from the chair she had been tied to, and Dean felt his heart shatter into a million pieces as Cas - Emmanuel - embraced her.

Thankful for the rescue, Cas - Emmanuel - agreed to heal Sam. During the drive from Colorado to Indiana, Dean learned that during a hike, Daphne found Emmanuel lying by the river, cold, naked, and confused. Curious to see if Cas remembered anything, he told the story that he was unable to forgive Cas due to betrayal and causing Sam's illness.

Dean's heart continued to pound behind his ribs, and he knew that his poker face had failed somewhere back in Iowa. So it was only a minor surprise that Emmanuel had put two and two together, figuring out that he was Cas. And after an utterly unfair fight against a handful of Demons, Cas remembered everything.

Cas stared at Dean for a moment before speaking. "Why didn't you just tell me from the moment you found me?"

"Would you have believed me?" Dean reached into the trunk of the Impala and pulled out Cas' trench coat. "Cause I don't think you would have."

"Dean, I was healing people with gold glowing fingers." Cas took the trench coat from Dean and put it on. "You kept it?"

"I missed you," Dean confessed easily.

Cas nodded and briefly squeezed Dean's hand before vanishing into the hospital and causing Dean to run to catch up to him. Dean was unable to get to the room where Cas found Sam, but after saving Sam, Cas brought him back to his room.

Dean watched as Cas rested his hand on Sam's head. The bright, golden glow extended out from Cas' palm, but there was no change in Sam's condition.

"Dean," Cas crossed back towards him. "I can't fix Sam. Not in the way that you hoped. But I can adjust it and move it, and you'll have Sam back." Dean fought himself from letting out a sob as Cas touched his cheek and continued. "Just in case I don't get the chance to tell you..." Cas used his free hand to flip over Dean's arm and expose his soulmark. "I know what this means. And I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused you because of it."

"Cas?" Dean shivered the moment Cas removed his hands. "What are you doing?"

"It's better this way, Dean." Cas crossed to Sam and looked back at Dean. "I do love you, Dean. That was the one thing I knew for certain when you found me in Colorado. It was the only thing I remembered, even if I didn't remember your name." He rolled back his sleeve, exposing the delicate birdcage soulmark on his own wrist, before placing his hand on the top of Sam's head. A bright red glow lit up in Sam's eyes before traveling up Cas' arm and flashing his own blue eyes red. "Remember that, Dean."

Cas removed his hand from Sam and instantly fell to the ground. He curled up against the wall, tucking his knees into his chest. Dean fell to his own knees, grateful for Sam's return, but devastated by the loss of Cas.

Over the next few weeks, Dean thought things would get easier. Despite Cas being near comatose, he was alive, and he was safe. Dean could have sworn that he felt a connection through his soulmark, which added to his strange sense of comfort. However, the things that Dean hoped would get easier, like living life on a day to day basis, only got harder.

The Leviathans that had cruelly ripped Cas away before were ramping up their game, and Dean feared for Cas. He constantly called and checked in on him, most likely to the chagrin of the staff. 

Bobby turned out to be a ghost, and while it was comforting to have a piece of the old man around, Dean knew it would hurt worse the second time they let him go.

And then there was the issue of Cas breaking out of his pseudo-comatose state. Dean knew before he received the call that Cas was talking and coherent. His Soulmark had flared in a cool rush that Dean would have compared to stepping into a cold river on a hot day. When the phone call came, he changed the route and headed immediately to the hospital.

Despite being grateful to have Cas back, Dean also found himself angry. How long had Cas known about he marks? How long had Cas played stupid? How long had Cas toyed with his feelings?

As they drove to go deal with the Leviathans once and for all, Dean often found himself looking back at Cas, catching him idly and absently tracing the marks on his wrist. Dean hoped that it meant they could talk and figure what was there between them. Still, his rational side kept reminding him that there was a strong chance that neither one of them would come out of the final showdown alive.

Cas and Dean, despite not having truly fought side by side for almost a year, quickly found their rhythm together. They made their way through the building, and Cas was able able to find and identify the head Leviathan. The pair of them were able to trick the assbutt, as Cas would call him, and destroy him.

The death of the Leviathan had an unexpected effect, dragging both Cas and Dean to Purgatory. Being trapped together, Dean figured they would at least have time to talk through what was going on. But per Cas' explanation to Dean, they would encounter all types of monsters, the souls of those very creatures they killed, coming to rest in a place known as good old monster Heaven. 

In half a heartbeat, Cas was gone with no rhyme, no reason, no fucking comment. Dean fell to his knees in the middle of the clearing. And his heart broke at the sudden abandonment from the angel. The wide-open area closed in around him, and Dean realized that for the first time in forever, he was truly alone.

Surrounded by howling and growls, snarling and hisses, Dean fell back to the only thing he figured he was good at. Being Daddy's good little soldier. The first kill was difficult, not having anything but a pocket knife on him. But he remembered some of the guerilla tactics his father had taught him and was soon taking on more and more creatures. Purgatory was kill-or-be-killed. Purgatory was pure.

After what felt like weeks, searching for Cas and a way out of Purgatory, Dean stumbled upon an unlikely ally. Benny, a vampire who had spent at least a good 100 years in Purgatory, had saved Dean from a surprise attack. Unlike the other creatures who had become feral in Dean's eyes, Benny was clear-minded, level-headed, and only wanted one thing in return for helping Dean. He wanted to go home.

As a matter of fact, Benny wanted so badly to get out of Purgatory, he was willing to help Dean track down Cas. He did ask multiple times why Dean wanted to get to the angel who abandoned him so quickly, but he never actually said that he wouldn't help Dean.

During a period of rest, Benny stopped and watched Dean before asking an obvious and painful question. "This angel of yours, brother. Would he have anything to with that mark on your arm?"

Dean swallowed and nodded, not realizing that he had brought attention to his soulmark. "Yeah, Benny. He does."

"Strange," Benny laughed. "When I was still on Earth, I never believed in angels. Here in Purgatory, you learn they're real, and per some of the residents, delicious. Now I'm learning that they can bond to a human through the soulmark?"

"Shut up." Dean blushed and quickly pulled down his sleeve to cover up the mark. "I barely know how half this stuff works. I was raised almost my entire life to believe that because I only had one mark, I wouldn't ever find my soulmate."

Benny shook his head. "Boy, that's what they're teaching in the modern world?"

"You're telling me it was different when you were topside?" Dean poked at the small fire they had made. "Am I about to get a 'when I was on Earth, we walked twenty miles in the snow.' lecture?"

"Woo, Boy." Benny let out a deep laugh and looked around. "Dean, back in my day, those with more than one or two soulmarks were considered the freaks." He rolled up his sleeve to expose two soulmarks, both of which were scars. "This one–" he pointed to compass "–I never got to meet. They died while I was here. I remember the burning sensation when that happened. I felt alive, but I also felt the rug pulled out from under me.

"This one–" Benny pointed at the mark of some type of coin. "–this was my Andrea. I woke up here, and it was scarred. I knew that my Maker had killed her because I loved her."

Dean looked at the marks before meeting Benny's gaze. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Look at your arm, Dean." Benny pointed with his makeshift blade. "Tell me that it hasn't been getting darker? That we haven't been getting closer. How'd you think I figured it out?"

"You've been using my arm to track him?" Dean scoffed in disbelief. "I don't know if I should be mad that you've been doing that, or mad that I didn't figure it out first."

"Hey now, brother. I've been using my nose, and my freaky creature senses too. But nothin's more accurate than a soulmark. It gets darker because your souls are merging together, getting closer to becoming one. Ain't no one ever tell you how that thing works?" Benny looked at his blade and grabbed a nearby rock to hone the edge. "I swear, I don't know what it's up like there, but there's a few things y'all could learn."

Dean laughed. "Ain't that the truth."

After getting some rest, Dean rolled up his sleeve, and between himself and Benny, they followed a trail that Benny could only describe as 'smelling like ozone.' Dean occasionally glanced at his mark, confirming what Benny told him. It was getting darker, it was filling in, and the sense of completion was blanketing Dean in comfort.

Within what seemed like a day, they found a river.

Within what seemed like a couple hours later, they found Cas.

There was nothing on Earth, nothing in Heaven nor Hell, and certainly nothing in Purgatory that could keep Dean from wrapping his arms around his angel. He clung tightly to Cas, letting the silent tears fall down his cheeks, and he felt Cas' arms wrap around him. "You stupid son of a bitch," Dean whispered against Cas' shoulder. "You shouldn't have ran.”

"I couldn't let them get to you." Dean felt Cas' body tense against his. "Like you, I'm a beacon. We don't belong here. But because of my grace, I burn a hundred times brighter." Cas tried to pull away, but Dean increased the strength of his embrace. "Dean, you and your... colleague are in danger here with me."

"Well, considering Dean here has refused to leave without you when he has a way out, I think we should double-time it and get both your stubborn asses out of here." Benny interrupted. Dean looked over his shoulder and saw the tight grip the vampire held on his blade.

"Benny's right, Cas. We have a way out. We get a headstart, we can get there, we can go home. We don't need to be here anymore, and we'll bring Benny with us." Dean let go of Cas long enough to cup the angel's face. "I love you, and I don't want to go home without you."

Dean watched as Cas' face moved through multiple expressions: surprise, pain, relief, concern, before returning to its usual stoicism. "I'll follow you."

"You walk with us, or we stay put with you." Dean held up his arm and showed his mark. "I will always find you."

"Hate to break this moment up, fellas. But we need to get a move on." Benny's voice was firm and clearly issued an order.

Dean grabbed Cas' hand and pulled, only slightly surprised when there was give, and he was followed. "We're moving, Benny. Lead the way."

In what Dean could only assume was another day and a half, Benny led the group to a rocky cliff. Dean didn't know what exactly to expect, but he was thinking there would be more fanfare involving a portal out of Purgatory. "Benny?"

"It's here, Dean. I can feel it." Benny looked around, confused.

"It's up there." Cas pointed, causing both Dean and Benny to look at him, then look up to where his finger suggested.

"Alright, then. We're all going home." Dean pulled back the sleeve on his left arm, while Benny did the same. They both cut into their arms while Benny recited an incantation. They grasped their arms together, and in a flash, Benny was gone. "I got him. Let's go, Cas."

Together, they started the trek up the cliff when a crash behind them startled Cas. "Dean, run. I'll hold them off."

"No, we go together." Dean tugged on Cas' arm, who followed, albeit more reluctantly.

They had almost made it to the portal when a pair of Leviathans dropped into their path. The female-presenting one grinned and teased, "Angel and Human for dinner. Never thought I would have been happy to be sent back here."

Cas placed himself in front of Dean, letting his angel blade slip into his grasp. "Dean, I'm not telling you again." He ran forward and swung at the male presenting Leviathan, temporarily beheading it, before the female one leaped on him.

Dean chased into the fray, his own makeshift blade at the ready, but found himself grabbed by Castiel. "Let me go, love."

Dean was stunned as Cas turned him around and shoved him before he fell to the ground. He looked around and realized that he was alone, in the dark, and back on Earth. He quickly pulled back the sleeve on his right arm, finding his mark deactivated and scarred.

His painful cry into the night was lost to the vast forest that surrounded him.

Dean laid in the clearing for several minutes - or hours he wasn't honestly sure - when a strange throbbing in his left arm grabbed his attention. He lifted his arm and looked at it, shaking his head. "Sorry, Benny. I'm moving." A soft pulse ran to his fingertips, and Dean briefly considered that it was Benny expressing his condolences. 

Dean tried multiple times to contact Sam, but his old phone numbers, his email, hell even his Facebook account, were all deactivated. 

The trip to Louisiana was faster than Dean imagined. After keeping his promise to Benny, restoring the vamp's soul to his remains, Dean found himself lonelier than ever. At least with Benny's soul curled up in his arm, he had a companion, someone to converse with, even if the responses were pulses and flashes of light.

Even the journey to Rufus' old cabin, the one they had used while hiding from the Leviathans, couldn't keep Dean's mind off of all the things he had lost. If being back on Earth meant no Cas, Dean wished he had stayed in Purgatory where they were at least together.

Dean moped around the cabin, cleaning it, resetting the protection wards, ready to use it as his own home, having nowhere else to go. He resigned himself to the fact that he had failed, even if he and Cas had destroyed the main Leviathan. He found the bottles of borax they had stocked up on and made himself a mixture. Dean needed to be ready on the off chance that any of the leftover black goo balls actually bothered to track him down.

He sat down to read one evening, a copy of Cat's Cradle that he had left in the cabin, when an old familiar sound wrenched at his heart. Dean would know the sound of Baby's engine anywhere, but the question was who the fuck was coming to the cabin?

Dean grabbed the bottle of soapy borax spray he made, holy water he had personally blessed, rock salt and a silver knife, before hiding next to the door. Moments after sliding into place, a key clicked the tumblers on the door, and it opened, a tall, shadowy figure stepping inside.

Once the door started to swing shut, Dean pounced, first pouring the holy water before dumping the handful of rock salt on the figure. He grabbed the spray bottle and squeezed the trigger, causing the person beneath him to cough, but not fizzle. Dean then took the silver blade and cut a slash on the body's arm, between two deactivated soulmarks, with no reaction.

"Jesus Christ. Dean?"

Dean scrambled back and jumped to his feet. "Sam?" He offered his hand down and helped his brother to feet before offering the items him. When Sam refused, Dean put himself through all the same motions before grabbing on to his brother.

"You're here! You're alive." Sam's smile was infectious, and the ache in Dean's chest started to ease. Sam looked around the room before focusing back on Dean. "Where's Cas?"

"He, uh." Dean crossed over to the sofa and rolled up his shirt, showing his arm to Sam as he sat down. "He didn't make it."

Sam looked at Dean's arm before looking at Dean. "What happened? Where were you?"

"Purgatory." Dean licked his lips. "Monster and Leviathan central." He traced his finger over the soulmark. "Cas stayed behind. Stupid son of a bitch. He thought it was the only way to get me home."

"No home without him here?" Sam's eyebrows were raised in sympathy. "I get that feeling."

"You do? Mr. Six Soulmarks?" Dean lashed out, unexpectedly even to him.

Sam took it in stride. "Six with four scarred over." Dean flinched as Sam sat next to him. "I'm sure it hits you harder, especially considering this isn't the first time, nor do you have another mark. But I do know how it feels."

"Shut up," Dean replied as he allowed himself to be pulled into a hug, the feeling of loneliness easing slightly.

Over the next few weeks, Dean and Sam tried to throw themselves back into hunting. At its best, it was a temporary distraction for Dean, and soon he found himself hallucinating Cas everywhere.

Dean thought he thought he saw Cas while driving for a case. Then he thought he saw him standing outside their motel window during a storm. The worst was when dreamed. Every dream was of Cas shoving him through the portal, of staying behind, of leaving Dean alone again.

Sure, Dean had found Sam, and the brothers were back together. And yeah, Sam definitely tried to help, offering a sense of reason, asking if there was anything he could do to help. But Cas was gone, and that hurt more than he could ever express.

...

As they worked on a case in Salina, Dean finally felt as though he hit rock bottom. He hadn't slept. He barely ate. He willingly let Sam drive the Impala. During one of Sam's searches for more insight on the case, Dean lost focus and excused himself to the bathroom.

Dean forced himself to drink a glass of water before washing his face. As he dried his face, he looked into the mirror and saw Cas behind him. Dean nearly fell to his knees, barely catching the sink before he collapses. "Why? Why are you doing this to me?" Dean croaked out, his eyes filled to the brim with tears.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean's grip slipped from the sink, and he fell the remaining distance to the ground. Warmth bloomed through his wrist, and he turned his arm over, glancing at his feather coming back to life before looking back at the ghost in front of him. "Cas?"

Cas only nodded as he offered his hand down to Dean, helping Dean to his feet.

"This is one hell of a fever dream." Dean looked at the door before looking back at Cas. "Sam's going to come barging in, and I'm going to admit I've lost my marbles."

Just as Dean had guessed, Sam did come to the door and knocked. "Dean, you okay?

"Sammy, open the door. Please."

The doorknob twisted, and Dean moved to the side as did Ghost Cas. "What's going..." Sam paused. "Cas?"

"Sam."

"Sammy, I'm not imagining this, right? You see this too?" Dean took the briefest of moments to look at Sam before looking back to Cas, afraid that if he looked away for too long, the mirage would fade.

Sam entered the bathroom and clasped his hand on Cas' shoulder. It didn't go through, it didn't break the mirage, it stayed steady on the firm shoulder of the angel across from Dean. "He's pretty damn real, Dean."

Dean rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Cas, who quickly returned the gesture. "Cas." The angel's name escaped Dean's lips, a softly spoken prayer of thanks to whoever had brought him back.

"I, uh, I'll give you two some space." Sam started to close the door behind him when Cas cleared his throat.

"Dean, head with him? I'm not exactly the cleanest. I just need a moment."

Dean started to shake his head. "How do I know you won't disappear again?"

"Whoever brought me back, had to have done it for a reason." Cas rested his hand against Dean's cheek. "Trust?"

"I trusted you to come back with me," Dean replied before he could stop himself. He cringed before stumbling over an apology.

"You don't need to apologize, Dean. And I would rather you didn't." Cas' hand fell to his side. "I knew it may hurt, but I needed you safe and out of Purgatory. Not a day went by where I regretted my actions because I knew you made it back."

"How exactly are you back, Cas?" Sam interrupted. "Dean said you pushed him through the portal as you were being attacked by Leviathans."

Cas shrugged. "I don't know."

Sam had to practically drag Dean out of the bathroom. Dean didn't want to be apart from Cas, not again, not after just getting him back, not without knowing he wouldn't disappear. He paced around the kitchen in their motel before Sam snapped at him to sit down or be tied down.

Reluctantly, Dean sat across the table from Sam, his eyes locked on the door to the bathroom. When it opened, and Cas stepped out, the dirt and grime and gore from Purgatory washed away, Dean found himself letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"Better?" Cas did a little spin, and Dean found himself remembering each and every reason he broke his own self-imposed rule of falling in love.

"Looking good, Cas," Sam replied as he discretely kicked Dean under the table.

"Better than good, Cas." Dean's mouth quirked up in a half-smile as he looked over his soulmate. "You're back."

Cas crossed over to the table, joining them to help out on their case as though he had never left. He went over what Sam had gathered, and inserted his own suggestions, giving Sam an idea, and causing Sam to bolt out of the motel room.

A few moments later, Dean's cell phone chirped, indicating a text from Sam. _I'll be gone for a bit. An hour at the least. Make good use of the time._ Dean coughed on the beer he drank while reading the text, and he quickly shut his phone and looked at Cas. "Brothers, right?"

Cas raised his eyebrow. "His text caused your heart rate to speed up and your pupils to dilate. He succeeded in bating you and embarrassing you."

"Yes. Yes, he did." Dean nodded, the flush in his cheeks getting warmer.

Cas stood up and offered his hand to Dean again. Dean took it and found himself pulled to his feet and crossing to the beds as Cas walked backward, his eyes locked on Dean's.

"What are you doing, Cas?" Dean asked as Cas sat down on the bed and pulled Dean down onto his lap.

"Something I should have done a long time ago." Cas ran his fingers through Dean's hair, resting them on the back of his neck. Cas pulled Dean in for a kiss, softly and gently testing the waters, exploring the limits and boundaries of how far he could go.

Dean whimpered into the kiss, his own arms wrapping behind Cas' neck. He pulled back slightly, causing Cas to try and chase after him, and rested their foreheads together. "Cas, what is this? And I mean literally, what are you doing?"

"Rediscovering you. Learning your body again. Engraving you into my memory." Cas pushed forward and stole a kiss, lightly dragging his teeth against Dean's bottom lip. A light breath tickled across Dean's mouth. "Giving all of me to you."

"Poetic much, Cas?" Dean swallowed back a whine and rocked forward, knocking Cas off balance and onto his back. "I'm a pretty simple kind of guy. I don't need the wining and dining."

"You deserve the world, Dean Winchester." Cas slid his hands along Dean's neck and underneath Dean's flannel.

Dean shrugged off his shirt with Cas' help. "At risk, of contradicting myself. I've got the world right here." He leaned down and reclaimed Cas' mouth as he hesitantly rocked his hips against Cas'. Dean was rewarded with a deep, husky moan before he pushed himself back up. He hooked his fingers in Cas' tie and pulled it loose, sliding it over Cas' head and tossing it to the side.

Cas' hands traveled up Dean's arms before he hooked one behind Dean's neck and used the other to push himself back up to a semi-sitting position. "This is something you want, correct, Dean?"

"Jesus, Cas." Dean busted into a full smile, his dimples appearing in disbelief instead of discontent

"I may not have been vocal about being your soulmate, but it was because I wasn't sure you wanted it. You're the one who's said angels couldn't love, who weren't supposed to become attached." Dean carded his fingers through Cas' hair, messing it up. "No pun intended, but it's been hard keeping my hands off of you."

"I'm still not sure how this whole soulmate thing works, it's something angels aren't supposed to have." Cas pulled himself to a sitting position and rested his other hand on Dean's hip. "But if this is how things are supposed to be, I'm glad it's between you and I." 

As Dean leaned in, his phone started to go off. It was Sam's ringtone, and Dean groaned. "He better be dying. He said he'd be an hour minimum."

"That's why you reacted, isn't it?" Cas smirked as Dean slid off his lap.

"Shut up, Cas." Dean crossed to the table and picked up his phone. "Are you dying?" Dean let his shoulders fall, and his displeasure show as Sam confirmed that Cas' insight led to a break in their case. "And you couldn't wait until my hour was up?" Sam offered an apology and promised to get a different hotel room. He emphasized that the information would get them off the road until a new case appeared.

"There's always a new case. Just text me the info, me and Cas'll be there soon." Dean flipped his phone shut and crossed back over to Cas. "Ain't no rest for the wicked, is there Angel?"

"Last I checked, you were still the Righteous Man," Cas replied as he stood up and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist. "You banish the wicked."

"Yeah, yeah, Cas. Let's get a move on." Dean picked up his flannel shirt and Cas' tie. "Can't forget these."

As Dean predicted, as soon as they resolved the case, a new one hit their radar in response. They stayed at the motel for one more evening, but there were no vacant rooms for Sam to crash in.

They traveled to several states for several cases, before the inevitable happened. Cas disappeared. 

...

Dean shut down, confused, and lost and numb. As far as he knew, there was no reason for Cas to leave, meaning that he had been taken. Dean tried finding comfort in the bottom of a fifth of Jack damn near every night, hoping that either Cas would return, or he wouldn't have to dream what almost was.

"Dean, are you even listening?" Sam grabbed the night's bottle and dropped it in the trash can. "We can try the angel summoning. I see your wrist. He's not dead. It's not supposed to hurt either."

"Sammy, I have prayed to him every night. He doesn't want to be here." Dean eyed the trash can where Sam dropped the bottle.

"Or he can't." Sam slammed a book in front of Dean, one that he had found in the Men of Letters bunker, a surprise from their grandfather. "This spell could bring him to us. I can look around, see if any of the ingredients are around, and then we can find a local shop on the network that caters to hunters."

Dean lifted the book and read the handwriting from years ago. "So, this is supposed to bypass bindings, and angel traps, and holy oil? All that jazz?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "We bring Cas home. Don't think I haven't seen you setting up your room for the two of you."

"Shut up, Sam." Dean began to scry over the ingredients before he looked up. He chewed on his bottom lip before asking the question that had been nagging at him. "What if he ain't an angel anymore?"

"Then we move on to a tracking spell." Sam shrugged. "Something is keeping you two apart, and while I'm worried about him, I'm sick of you moping." Sam turned and walked out of the library.

Surprisingly, there was only one ingredient the bunker didn't have. Honestly, it did, but it was moldy and therefore unusable - and after a quick run to grab what they needed, Sam was ready to cast the spell. 

Dean drew the sigil while Sam prepped the ingredients. "Is this going to work, Sam?"

"I don't see why it shouldn't." Sam crossed to the table and nodded. "You were always better at drawing these." He placed the bowl in the center of the sigil and recited the spell. "Angelus Iovis, voca me audies. Erunt soluta et libera me vocavit." Sam struck a match and dropped it into the bowl, and it flared bright blue.

The lights in the room flickered, and the temperature in the room plummeted. A loud crash from behind caused the brothers to turn around. "I didn't know that spell still existed," A deep, gravelly voice coughed out, nearly bringing Dean to tears.

"Cas!" Dean slid to the floor and wrapped his arms around the shivering angel. "You're cold. You don't get cold." He looked over his shoulder. "Sam, blanket, anything!" Dean wriggled out of his flannel and wrapped it around Cas as Sam ran to grab a blanket. "Cas, what happened?"

"The angels. They grabbed me out of purgatory. When I didn't return to the host, when I found you instead, they felt betrayed. They hadn't been able to find me due to my own protection wards, but they found me on that last case because of all the grace I used." Cas cuddled against Dean for warmth. "They tried to fix me. Said I was broken."

Sam entered back into the room and handed the blanket to Dean, who wrapped it around Cas. "You're not broken. You're Cas. You're my angel."

"That's the problem. I'm an angel." Cas looked up at Dean. "Would you still love me if I weren't?"

"Of course, Cas." Dean raised his eyebrows in confusion. "But what do you mean if you weren't? What are you thinking?"

"We need to finish what they started." Cas traced his fingers over Dean's soulmark. "Will I still be yours if I don't have my grace?"

Dean rested his cheek on top of Cas' head as he pulled the angel in closer. "Cas, you have died, you have been nearly depleted, you have been dragged to heaven. Not once has this mark not responded to you, and you alone."

"I always watched mine to keep an eye on you. To know you were ok. It may have been faded, but it was always there." Cas slipped his right hand under Dean's. "Am I the bird in the birdcage?"

Dean laughed. "I knew that was my mark for you the moment I saw it. Vonnegut. _Breakfast of Champions_ 'That's the most intelligent use of three wishes I ever heard of,' he told the bird. 'You made sure you'd still have something worth wishing for--to get out of the cage.' I think it applies to you right now. You're wishing to get out." Dean pulled back and kissed the top of Cas' head. "Whatever you choose, I'm behind you."

...

With time of the essence, Cas, Dean, and Sam took to researching the extensive Men of Letters library, desperate to find the safest way to remove the remainder Cas' grace.

Sam lucked upon the solution first, because it was Sam. He found that the extraction process had been done before: by a volunteer angel and the Men of Letters. He showed the research that occurred, and Cas confirmed that it may hurt, but he would come out unscathed. And when Dean brought up his concerns, Cas kissed each one away before taking Dean to bed.

Dean had been the one to find the device, a needle that would scare even the bravest of people with Enochian spells etched into the metal cylinder that would hold the grace. He looked at the device then looked at Cas, reminding his angel that he didn't have to do it, that they would protect him.

Cas was the one who chose the time to do it. He had stated that was something he needed to do, something to finalize the procedure. Cas left for a brief period and gave an amount of time that he would be back in to put Dean at ease.

Not that Dean could relax. His soulmate, the love of his life, was about to go through a transformation. It would strip him of his wings, of his grace, of the life he had always known. Cas would feel cold, Cas would grow old... Cas could die. Dean turned himself into a large bundle of nerves, only slightly relaxing when Cas returned.

Cas pulled Sam to the side and handed him a small package, piquing Dean's curiosity. When he asked about it, Cas responded with a simple "You'll know soon," hardly keeping Dean from freaking out.

As Cas laid back in the large chair that reminded Dean of _A Clockwork Orange_ or even worse, a dentist's office, Dean gave Cas a final chance to turn back and not go through with the extraction. Cas' hand traced Dean's cheek before sliding into his hands. "I'll be fine, Dean. I promise."

Dean hooked a nearby chair with his foot and dragged it over. He sat down and squeezed Cas' hand. The pair looked at Sam, who had been voluntold by Dean to perform the procedure. Dean used the excuse of "You had more schooling than me on biology, man," which caused the two men and soon to be ex-angel to laugh.

"Cas, you know I don't want to hurt you, so I'm sorry in advance," Sam commented as he cleaned the spot on Cas' neck. "I'm almost with Dean here, but we both know it's your choice."

"There's nothing to apologize for, Sam. I knew what would happen when we went over the process. The angel was candid in his response."

"At least we hope he wasn't grandstanding," Dean muttered under his breath, earning a hand squeeze from Cas and a glare from Sam.

Sam took in a deep breath, placed the needle against Cas' neck where the diagram showed, and slowly pushed it in as he exhaled. Cas showed no signs of distress. Per the notes, it wouldn't be the insertion that hurt, but the extraction of grace. "On the count of three, Cas. One. Two. Three." Sam counted quickly and started pulling back on the extractor.

For the first few seconds, there was no reaction from Cas. His eyes flickered from Dean on his left to Sam on his right, and back to Dean. Then the damn broke. Cas screamed, a blood-curdling sound, causing Dean's heart to break.

Sam retracted the extractor as fast as it would allow, but by the end, with so little grace left, Cas nearly passed out from the pain, Dean standing up and leaning over him to give him something to brace on. As the extractor filled up, Sam quickly pulled the needle out of Cas' neck and recited a small spell that would use the last of Cas' grace to heal the puncture. 

Once complete, Cas rotated his head and rested his head on Dean's arm, shivering from the cold, from the shock, from the feeling of being rendered graceless.

"Hey, Angel." Dean ran his fingers through Cas' hair, pushing it back out of his face. "Hanging in there?"

Cas nodded as his eyes slowly shut, his adrenaline quickly fading. "Tired."

"Think you can walk? If not, I can carry you." Dean lightly tugged on the hand he was still holding.

Cas shook his head but maneuvered so Dean would have an easier time picking him up. Dean carried him back to their room and laid Cas gently on the bed, promising him that he was safe. With Dean's words, Cas closed his eyes and fell asleep for the first time as a human.

...

A few hours later, Cas woke, cuddled against Dean, who was sitting up in their bed, reading. Dean ran his hand down Cas' arm, enjoying watching Cas shudder at the sensation. "Everything's amplified, huh, Cas?"

Cas nodded. "It all went okay?"

"Yeah, it did." Dean closed his book and set it on his nightstand. "Also, Sam stopped by with the box again. I swear I didn't look." Dean picked up the box and handed it to Cas. "You gonna tell me what's in there now, that was so important for you to risk your neck?"

"I'm going to show you if you stop being a brat." Cas sat up and rested his head on Dean's shoulder. "There's something you need to know about this before I share it with you."

"You think I'm gonna run, Cas?" Dean rested his head on Cas' and looked at the box resting in the former angel's hands. "At this point, I think we're stuck together, don't you?"

"I did give up my grace," Cas replied sarcastically, before changing to a softer, more serious voice. "They couldn't fix me. In Heaven. In the way that they needed. Their theory was that the soulmark interfered with their plans. They couldn't remove it, though they tried. I think even they knew that soulmarks can't be altered or changed."

"What were they trying to do to you, Cas?" Dean wrapped his arm around Cas' waist and pulled him closer.

Cas shook his head. "They wanted Castiel the soldier, Castiel the shield. The moment I took my true vessel, the moment our marks activated, I was lost to them."

"So the birdcage when it was Jimmy's wrist?" 

"Never would have activated if I didn't ask him to be my vessel. It was only ever meant for me." Cas nudged his head out from under Dean's. "The rose for Amelia will always be active as long as she's alive, but hers that she wears for Jimmy is a scar."

"Weird fucking things." Dean leaned in and softly claimed Cas' lips.

Cas laughed as the kiss broke. "Does that count as my first kiss?"

"If you want it to." Dean rested his forehead against Cas'. "So, what's in the box?"

Cas took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Dean held back a laugh, watching as Cas treated removing the lid like delicate heart surgery. Once the top was removed, Dean could make out the soft blue fabric inside, cushioning and covering two possibly cylindrical shapes.

"Come on, Cas. You're gonna kill me with anticipation." Dean sat up straight after laying a kiss on Cas' cheek. "Don't make me pull a Brad Pitt from Seven."

"I don't understand that reference." Cas shook his head before turning back to the box. He pulled back the fabric, revealing two glass vials filled with something blue and shimmery.

Dean inhaled sharply. "Is that what I think it is?"

"It's a little bit of my grace that Sam extracted," Cas confirmed. "I need you to know something about this before you accept. I'm keeping one, because per the angel in the test, it feels better to keep a little around for grounding." Cas paused and delicately fingered one of the vials. "I made sure that they were both etched with Enochian, so they can't be traced. That's why I left for that short time."

"So you're keeping one, what about the other? A backup?" Dean mimicked Cas and delicately traced the other vial.

"It's for you."

Dean tilted his head in confusion. "I sense there's a meaning behind this?"

"Yes..." Cas hesitated, thinking over his next words. "While frowned upon, there have been times before when an angel would fall for a human. In researching more on that experiment from the Men of Letters, it was done so the host would stop going after the angel who fell in love with a human."

The realization of Cas' words hit Dean like a sack of bricks. "Cas, you did this so you could stay with me?"

"I thought you understood that?"

"Cas, I'm smart, but sometimes you need to hit me with a clue by four." Dean lifted one of the vials out of the box by its chain, unclasping it long enough to reconnect it around Cas' neck.

"Dean, the angel who did this before me, they, he, he filled two vials, one for me, and one for the daughter of the researcher who assisted him." Cas lifted the other vial out of the box. "It was their own little union ceremony, as they knew he couldn't be truly assimilated into human society."

"You mean they couldn't forge and fake like we can nowadays? Cause Sammy and I, let me tell you about our credit cards and whose names are on them." Dean laughed as Cas playfully shoved him.

"Dean, I want this to mean what it meant for them. I know we're bonded by the soulmarks. I know we're soulmates–"

"But you want something that's us. That's independent of fate. That we've chosen." Dean cupped Cas' cheek in his hand. "And I am completely okay with that."

Cas quickly undid the clasp on Dean's necklace before leaning towards him and clasping it around his neck. "I know you have Sam's necklace, and you don't need to wear mine all the time, but–"

Dean interrupted Cas with a kiss, their first one confirming the bond they made, to go alongside the one that brought them together.

**Author's Note:**

> Are you into Destiel? Do you use Discord? Are you over the age of 18? Looking for a cool group of people to hang out with? Come join the writers, artists, and other amazing Destiel fans on the [Profound Bond Discord Server](https://discord.gg/profoundbond).


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